Robert “Sweetrobin” Arryn refuses to go down to the Vale. But… well… Winter is Coming, as they say, and everybody needs to leave the mountaintop until spring comes again.
Alayne: *sigh* Well everyone else is an idiot, and Robert only likes me. So I guess I’m going to have to do it.
She goes into Robert’s bedchamber.
Alayne: Come darling, you need to leave.
Robert: NO! I don’t want to!
Alayne: We’ll be trapped in the Eyrie for all of Winter if you don’t come down.
Robert: I DON’T CARE!
Alayne: You should care.
Robert: I’m not going. Going down the mountain is scary. And those mules smell terrible. And I want some sweetmilk! I asked for some and Maester Coleman wouldn’t give it to me.
Alayne: You need to go down, my Sweetrobin. I’ll sing you a song when I get down there. And you’ll get lots of tasty food.
Robert: Truly? Can I have lemoncakes?
Alayne: Hey now, liking lemoncakes is MY thing. Stop stealing my shit.
Robert: I want lemoncakes. I want ALL THE LEMONCAKES in the world! And I want you to sing me FIVE songs!
Alayne: *sigh* Man, if Petyr were here, he’d have taken care of this already. Littlefinger scares the hell out of Robert. But, alas, he’s out attending some sort of wedding for Lord Lyonel Corbray, who is marrying some common girl. I don’t understand what’s up with that. Still. How would Petyr deal with this if he were here?
Then Alayne remembers – he’d just lie and manipulate!
Alayne: You can have ALL THE LEMONCAKES, Dear Sweetrobin. And I’ll sing you as many songs as you want. And you’ll be the bravest boy who ever went down the mountain because you’re so brave and smart and strong!
Robert: YAAAAAY! OKAY! I’m going down then.
Alayne: *whew* I can’t believe that actually worked.
As Robert is bathed and readied to go down, Alayne meets with Maester Colemon.
Alayne: Dude, this kid will never survive the ride down unless you give him some sweetmilk.
Colemon: You are aware that sweetmilk is just milk with a pinch of sweetsleep being added, right? Sweetsleep being a potion commonly used by assassins to kill people. It’s what Pycelle accused Tyrion of taking from his office. It’s what Pycelle used to treat Lord Rosby’s coughing. This is some SERIOUS STUFF. The tiny bit added to the drink is survivable, but if I give it to him all the time… he will die. That stuff stays in your system forever.
Alayne: He might die one day if you keep giving it to him? Yes. Possible. But he DEFINITELY WILL 100% DIE TODAY if he has a seizure, panicking on that mountain, and falling to his death. Give him the damn sweetmilk.
Colemon: Yes, m’lady.
Alayne then goes down to join Lothar Brune and Mya Stone (remember her? Robert’s bastard daughter!) that Robert will be coming soon.
Mya: It’s about damn time. I’ve been waiting here forever. Oh, and Myranda Royce has come up as well.
Alayne: What? Really? She came up all this way just to head back down again?
Alayne wonders why exactly Myranda would do that. Littlefinger had warned her that Myranda was shrewd and crafy. What could this lady be up to? While Robert Arryn might be scared because he’s so frail… Alayne is scared too. Up in the Eyrie, she can be Alayne. But when she comes down to the Vale… will someone recognize her as Sansa Stark? The Queen supposedly has men all over, looking for her.
Robert arrives, and they get going. Needless to say, it’s a bit rocky. Literally. Robert starts panicing and shaking.
Alayne: Hold me, Robert! I’m so scared! I need a brave, strong boy like you to make me less scared!
That totally works. Robert stops shaking. Being told that he’s a manly man really works, it seems.
They arrive and reach the point where Myranda was waiting. This is a good thing, because it looks like the only other human being (beyond Alayne) that little Robert seems to like is her.
Robert: YAY! Myranda! Myranda! My other best friend!
Myranda: Oh, hello there my dear, sweet Robert! Why, you have grown so big and strong. And you, you must be Littlefinger’s bastard daughter, Alayne. They said you were beautiful and now that I see that it’s true. You must not be a virgin anymore for sure. With how hot you are, you must have all kinds of sex. Immediately tell me all about it now.
Alayne: Oh. Uhm. Hi, Myranda. That’s an interesting way to begin a conversation with a human being that you just met, right in front of a small child.
Myranda: In addition to telling me all about your sex life, I’d also like to know everything else about you. A complete history of your life. Your backstory. Everything you’ve ever done. You know, just to make sure you’re not really someone else, using a false identity. Because it’s sort of weird that Littlefinger has this daughter name “Alayne” that just magically appears one day even though she’s never been mentioned before.
Alayne: Yeah, well it was weird on Buffy when that happened with Dawn too. At first people were super angry about that, but then people just came to accept it. You’re just going to have to stop hyperventilating about things which you can’t control and deal with it.
Myranda: OH, SILLY ME! I almost forgot!
Myranda pulls out a sheet of paper and a pencil.
Myranda: Sorry, what did you say again? I need to keep reminding myself to record every single thing you ever say to me, in order to track potential inconsistencies.
Alayne: Well, this trip down is going to be fun.
And so they descend. Alayne and Myranda do the best they can to keep Robert from freaking out. Occasionally he does doze off or act calm, which gives time for Myranda to provide all sorts of totally necessary plot exposition to Alayne. Exposition like:
Myranda: Lady Waynwood attended Lord Corbray’s wedding.
Alayne: Oh, interesting. She was one of the Lords Declarant that was against Littlefinger. Littlefinger was very doubtful that she would come to his side. But if she bothered to show up, that means she must have been won over somehow. Interesting. I’ll have to ask Littlefinger how he knew that.
Myranda: Odd that you call him “Littlefinger.” Shouldn’t you say, “My dad?”
Alayne: Uhhm… err… YES! I mean “my dad.”
Myranda jots that down on her paper.
Myranda: Hey, have you ever seen his penis? Is it tiny? Is that why tell call him “Littlefinger?” Hehehe.
Alayne: EWWW! GROSS!!! You’re talking about my dad’s penis.
Myranda: Anyway, on with the exposition. Speaking of Lady Waynwood, did you know that her ward, Harry the Heir, was recently knighted? And they say he’s fathered TWO bastard sons already, despite how young he is.
Alayne: Wait… Waynwood’s ward? I remember Littlef-errr… MY DAD talking about him. That’s Harrold Hardyng, right? Why would he be called “Harry the Heir?”
But Myranda doesn’t pay attention to that, and instead goes on talking about bastards.
Myranda: Did you hear that some bastard son of Ned Stark became the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch?
Alayne: WHAT?! JON SNOW?!
Myranda: Hrm. Snow? Yeah. I guess that’s his name. Interesting that you, Alayne Stone, would know by name a particular bastard son from a deceased Lord who lived far, far away in Winterfell.
She writes that down on her notepad.
Alayne: Err… well… you know how it is. Us bastards of lords and stuff. We stick together. And. Uhm. He was named after Lord Jon Arryn, I heard. Yeah. I remember Aunt Lysa telling me that once. Wait. Did I say "Aunt" Lysa. No! I mean "Step Mom" Lysa. Because my father, who is Petyr Baelish, married her.
Myranda: Oh, looks like we’re here! Gates of the Moon!
Alayne: OH THANK GOD THAT IS OVER.
As Alayne looks, she sees that Littlefinger’s flags are waving.
Alayne: Wait… father is back? Oh! I didn’t think he was supposed to be back so soon!
She’s dead tired and just wanted to go to sleep after the long and taxing journey, but instead she runs to see Littlefinger.
She interrupts him, as he stands talking with several knights.
Alayne: Oh, father. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have intruded if I’d have known you had company.
Littlefinger: Nonsense, these guys were just leaving. Give your father a kiss!
She pecks him lightly on the cheek as the knights depart. After they are gone…
Littlefinger: Surely you can give your dad a better kiss than that!
He starts making out with her. Yeah, it’s gross. Eventually, she pulls away.
Alayne: Yeah, if you think that’s the type of kiss that a daughter should give to her father, then you’re the one who is going to blow this whole “I’m Alayne” story.
Littlefinger: Ah, but I have good news. You might not to keep this Alayne cover story for long.
Alayne: Say what now?
Littlefinger: As expected, Cersei Lannister is bumbling her way into chaos as usual. Usually I’m okay with that. I love chaos. I eat chaos three times a day. I own three cats, all of whom are named “Chaos.” Chaos—
Alayne: —is a ladder. Yeah, yeah. I get it.
Littlefinger: Anyway, I knew Cersei would self-destruct. But I didn’t think it would be this fast.
Alayne: Oh just wait a few chapters. You ain’t seen nothing yet.
Littlefinger: I thought I had years to plot here in the Vale… to win these people over. But now I might need to advance my plans. And that is why I bring you THIS…
He hands Alayne a piece of paper.
Alayne: Uhh… this is a marriage contract. For me!
Littlefinger: Yes.
Alayne: I’m already married.
Littlefinger: Sansa Stark is married. Alayne Stone is not.
Alayne: But you were just saying that I might be able to drop that identity soon.
Littlefinger: Yes, soon. But not quite now.
Alayne: WAIT! This says I’m to marry Harrold Hardyng! Myranda was just talking about that guy. Geez, if I knew you wanted me to marry him, I’d have paid more attention to the conversation. What did she say? Oh yeah, something about him being recently knighted and him fathering children out of wedlock. Seems like kind of a douche.
Littlefinger: A douche he might be… but a powerful douche! Why do you think he’s recently been knighted? He did nothing really to deserve it. Yet all the houses of the Vale wish to earn his favor.
Alayne: OH WAIT! Yeah. I remember Myranda said something else about him. She called him “Harry the Heir.” But that makes no sense. Why would Harry be Lady Waynwood’s heir? She has a bunch of kids of her own, right? Why would this ward kid be her heir.
Littlefinger: Think about it, Alayne. Harry is an heir, yes. But not to Lady Waynwood.
Alayne: Huh? What heir is he then?
Littlefinger: I’m glad you asked!
Baelish pulls down a carefully crafted diagram and genealogy table. He pulls out his light pointer.
Littlefinger: So Robert Arryn’s father was Lord Jon Arryn, right? Jon has a sister names “Alys.” Alys Arryn married Elys Waynwood. And Elys and Alys had a daughter. What’s the daughter’s name? It doesn’t matter. It’s never actually been stated in the books because this is intentionally a convoluted story that I’m telling. Anyway, Elys and Alys’s no-name daughter then married Lord Hardyng. What’s Lord Hardyng’s name? That doesn’t matter either, for plot purposes. But Lord Hardyng’s son with Elys and Alys’s daughter is is the ward of Lady Waynwood, the one and only Harrold “Harry” Hardyng. The very person you are now betrothed to, according to that contract in your hand.
Alayne: Oh. That means nothing to me.
Littelfinger: Jon Arryn had no other children. No other heirs. The closest blood relative after Robert is therefore…
Alayne: -OH! HARRY! Harry the Heir! He’s not the heir to Waynwood. He’s the heir to all of the Vale! He’s the next Lord if Robert dies!
Littlefinger: WHEN Robert dies, you mean. I know how you care for him so, but he is so small… so fragile. You know it will happen, sooner or later. Probably sooner.
Alayne: But why would the heir to the Vale be willing to marry some bastard girl of Littlefinger?
Littlefinger: Why? Because now I have power. But things will not stay that way. Not forever. Jon Arryn’s bannermen will never love or trust me in the long run. Nor will they love that sickly, shaking boy. But who could they love? They could love Harry, who is nicknamed “Young Falcon.” And they could love his wife too. Not his wife, my bastard daughter. His wife with long, auburn hair… the one that walks out at the wedding wearing a grey cloak with a wolf on it.
Alayne: Well okay, that sounds cool. Just promise me that I don’t have to marry fucking Ramsay Bolton though.
Littlefinger: WHAT?! That sick, murderous weirdo? I would never. That would totally go completely against everything that my character inherently stands for. I’m obsessed with you, love you myself, and would never put you in danger’s way. You represent a sick fetish that I have to be with your mother.
Alayne: Good. Good. I’m glad you understand that. Because it seems like not everyone understands that. There are other people who might have you marry me to Ramsay, which would be completely illogical, go totally against your character, and would indicate poor writing skills by a desperate group of people who are in over their heads and need to more closely stay to the books.
Littlefinger: Just so that we’re on the same page… you’re talking about David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, correct?
Alayne: Yes.
Littlefinger: Good.
Arianne Matrell: Yes, I agree also! I should be in the TV show.
Alyane: No, you're in the wrong chapter, Arianne. We've moved on to the Sansa-Ramsay wedding thing.
Arianne: Oh right. That was dumb too.
Alayne: *sigh* Well everyone else is an idiot, and Robert only likes me. So I guess I’m going to have to do it.
She goes into Robert’s bedchamber.
Alayne: Come darling, you need to leave.
Robert: NO! I don’t want to!
Alayne: We’ll be trapped in the Eyrie for all of Winter if you don’t come down.
Robert: I DON’T CARE!
Alayne: You should care.
Robert: I’m not going. Going down the mountain is scary. And those mules smell terrible. And I want some sweetmilk! I asked for some and Maester Coleman wouldn’t give it to me.
Alayne: You need to go down, my Sweetrobin. I’ll sing you a song when I get down there. And you’ll get lots of tasty food.
Robert: Truly? Can I have lemoncakes?
Alayne: Hey now, liking lemoncakes is MY thing. Stop stealing my shit.
Robert: I want lemoncakes. I want ALL THE LEMONCAKES in the world! And I want you to sing me FIVE songs!
Alayne: *sigh* Man, if Petyr were here, he’d have taken care of this already. Littlefinger scares the hell out of Robert. But, alas, he’s out attending some sort of wedding for Lord Lyonel Corbray, who is marrying some common girl. I don’t understand what’s up with that. Still. How would Petyr deal with this if he were here?
Then Alayne remembers – he’d just lie and manipulate!
Alayne: You can have ALL THE LEMONCAKES, Dear Sweetrobin. And I’ll sing you as many songs as you want. And you’ll be the bravest boy who ever went down the mountain because you’re so brave and smart and strong!
Robert: YAAAAAY! OKAY! I’m going down then.
Alayne: *whew* I can’t believe that actually worked.
As Robert is bathed and readied to go down, Alayne meets with Maester Colemon.
Alayne: Dude, this kid will never survive the ride down unless you give him some sweetmilk.
Colemon: You are aware that sweetmilk is just milk with a pinch of sweetsleep being added, right? Sweetsleep being a potion commonly used by assassins to kill people. It’s what Pycelle accused Tyrion of taking from his office. It’s what Pycelle used to treat Lord Rosby’s coughing. This is some SERIOUS STUFF. The tiny bit added to the drink is survivable, but if I give it to him all the time… he will die. That stuff stays in your system forever.
Alayne: He might die one day if you keep giving it to him? Yes. Possible. But he DEFINITELY WILL 100% DIE TODAY if he has a seizure, panicking on that mountain, and falling to his death. Give him the damn sweetmilk.
Colemon: Yes, m’lady.
Alayne then goes down to join Lothar Brune and Mya Stone (remember her? Robert’s bastard daughter!) that Robert will be coming soon.
Mya: It’s about damn time. I’ve been waiting here forever. Oh, and Myranda Royce has come up as well.
Alayne: What? Really? She came up all this way just to head back down again?
Alayne wonders why exactly Myranda would do that. Littlefinger had warned her that Myranda was shrewd and crafy. What could this lady be up to? While Robert Arryn might be scared because he’s so frail… Alayne is scared too. Up in the Eyrie, she can be Alayne. But when she comes down to the Vale… will someone recognize her as Sansa Stark? The Queen supposedly has men all over, looking for her.
Robert arrives, and they get going. Needless to say, it’s a bit rocky. Literally. Robert starts panicing and shaking.
Alayne: Hold me, Robert! I’m so scared! I need a brave, strong boy like you to make me less scared!
That totally works. Robert stops shaking. Being told that he’s a manly man really works, it seems.
They arrive and reach the point where Myranda was waiting. This is a good thing, because it looks like the only other human being (beyond Alayne) that little Robert seems to like is her.
Robert: YAY! Myranda! Myranda! My other best friend!
Myranda: Oh, hello there my dear, sweet Robert! Why, you have grown so big and strong. And you, you must be Littlefinger’s bastard daughter, Alayne. They said you were beautiful and now that I see that it’s true. You must not be a virgin anymore for sure. With how hot you are, you must have all kinds of sex. Immediately tell me all about it now.
Alayne: Oh. Uhm. Hi, Myranda. That’s an interesting way to begin a conversation with a human being that you just met, right in front of a small child.
Myranda: In addition to telling me all about your sex life, I’d also like to know everything else about you. A complete history of your life. Your backstory. Everything you’ve ever done. You know, just to make sure you’re not really someone else, using a false identity. Because it’s sort of weird that Littlefinger has this daughter name “Alayne” that just magically appears one day even though she’s never been mentioned before.
Alayne: Yeah, well it was weird on Buffy when that happened with Dawn too. At first people were super angry about that, but then people just came to accept it. You’re just going to have to stop hyperventilating about things which you can’t control and deal with it.
Myranda: OH, SILLY ME! I almost forgot!
Myranda pulls out a sheet of paper and a pencil.
Myranda: Sorry, what did you say again? I need to keep reminding myself to record every single thing you ever say to me, in order to track potential inconsistencies.
Alayne: Well, this trip down is going to be fun.
And so they descend. Alayne and Myranda do the best they can to keep Robert from freaking out. Occasionally he does doze off or act calm, which gives time for Myranda to provide all sorts of totally necessary plot exposition to Alayne. Exposition like:
Myranda: Lady Waynwood attended Lord Corbray’s wedding.
Alayne: Oh, interesting. She was one of the Lords Declarant that was against Littlefinger. Littlefinger was very doubtful that she would come to his side. But if she bothered to show up, that means she must have been won over somehow. Interesting. I’ll have to ask Littlefinger how he knew that.
Myranda: Odd that you call him “Littlefinger.” Shouldn’t you say, “My dad?”
Alayne: Uhhm… err… YES! I mean “my dad.”
Myranda jots that down on her paper.
Myranda: Hey, have you ever seen his penis? Is it tiny? Is that why tell call him “Littlefinger?” Hehehe.
Alayne: EWWW! GROSS!!! You’re talking about my dad’s penis.
Myranda: Anyway, on with the exposition. Speaking of Lady Waynwood, did you know that her ward, Harry the Heir, was recently knighted? And they say he’s fathered TWO bastard sons already, despite how young he is.
Alayne: Wait… Waynwood’s ward? I remember Littlef-errr… MY DAD talking about him. That’s Harrold Hardyng, right? Why would he be called “Harry the Heir?”
But Myranda doesn’t pay attention to that, and instead goes on talking about bastards.
Myranda: Did you hear that some bastard son of Ned Stark became the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch?
Alayne: WHAT?! JON SNOW?!
Myranda: Hrm. Snow? Yeah. I guess that’s his name. Interesting that you, Alayne Stone, would know by name a particular bastard son from a deceased Lord who lived far, far away in Winterfell.
She writes that down on her notepad.
Alayne: Err… well… you know how it is. Us bastards of lords and stuff. We stick together. And. Uhm. He was named after Lord Jon Arryn, I heard. Yeah. I remember Aunt Lysa telling me that once. Wait. Did I say "Aunt" Lysa. No! I mean "Step Mom" Lysa. Because my father, who is Petyr Baelish, married her.
Myranda: Oh, looks like we’re here! Gates of the Moon!
Alayne: OH THANK GOD THAT IS OVER.
As Alayne looks, she sees that Littlefinger’s flags are waving.
Alayne: Wait… father is back? Oh! I didn’t think he was supposed to be back so soon!
She’s dead tired and just wanted to go to sleep after the long and taxing journey, but instead she runs to see Littlefinger.
She interrupts him, as he stands talking with several knights.
Alayne: Oh, father. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have intruded if I’d have known you had company.
Littlefinger: Nonsense, these guys were just leaving. Give your father a kiss!
She pecks him lightly on the cheek as the knights depart. After they are gone…
Littlefinger: Surely you can give your dad a better kiss than that!
He starts making out with her. Yeah, it’s gross. Eventually, she pulls away.
Alayne: Yeah, if you think that’s the type of kiss that a daughter should give to her father, then you’re the one who is going to blow this whole “I’m Alayne” story.
Littlefinger: Ah, but I have good news. You might not to keep this Alayne cover story for long.
Alayne: Say what now?
Littlefinger: As expected, Cersei Lannister is bumbling her way into chaos as usual. Usually I’m okay with that. I love chaos. I eat chaos three times a day. I own three cats, all of whom are named “Chaos.” Chaos—
Alayne: —is a ladder. Yeah, yeah. I get it.
Littlefinger: Anyway, I knew Cersei would self-destruct. But I didn’t think it would be this fast.
Alayne: Oh just wait a few chapters. You ain’t seen nothing yet.
Littlefinger: I thought I had years to plot here in the Vale… to win these people over. But now I might need to advance my plans. And that is why I bring you THIS…
He hands Alayne a piece of paper.
Alayne: Uhh… this is a marriage contract. For me!
Littlefinger: Yes.
Alayne: I’m already married.
Littlefinger: Sansa Stark is married. Alayne Stone is not.
Alayne: But you were just saying that I might be able to drop that identity soon.
Littlefinger: Yes, soon. But not quite now.
Alayne: WAIT! This says I’m to marry Harrold Hardyng! Myranda was just talking about that guy. Geez, if I knew you wanted me to marry him, I’d have paid more attention to the conversation. What did she say? Oh yeah, something about him being recently knighted and him fathering children out of wedlock. Seems like kind of a douche.
Littlefinger: A douche he might be… but a powerful douche! Why do you think he’s recently been knighted? He did nothing really to deserve it. Yet all the houses of the Vale wish to earn his favor.
Alayne: OH WAIT! Yeah. I remember Myranda said something else about him. She called him “Harry the Heir.” But that makes no sense. Why would Harry be Lady Waynwood’s heir? She has a bunch of kids of her own, right? Why would this ward kid be her heir.
Littlefinger: Think about it, Alayne. Harry is an heir, yes. But not to Lady Waynwood.
Alayne: Huh? What heir is he then?
Littlefinger: I’m glad you asked!
Baelish pulls down a carefully crafted diagram and genealogy table. He pulls out his light pointer.
Littlefinger: So Robert Arryn’s father was Lord Jon Arryn, right? Jon has a sister names “Alys.” Alys Arryn married Elys Waynwood. And Elys and Alys had a daughter. What’s the daughter’s name? It doesn’t matter. It’s never actually been stated in the books because this is intentionally a convoluted story that I’m telling. Anyway, Elys and Alys’s no-name daughter then married Lord Hardyng. What’s Lord Hardyng’s name? That doesn’t matter either, for plot purposes. But Lord Hardyng’s son with Elys and Alys’s daughter is is the ward of Lady Waynwood, the one and only Harrold “Harry” Hardyng. The very person you are now betrothed to, according to that contract in your hand.
Alayne: Oh. That means nothing to me.
Littelfinger: Jon Arryn had no other children. No other heirs. The closest blood relative after Robert is therefore…
Alayne: -OH! HARRY! Harry the Heir! He’s not the heir to Waynwood. He’s the heir to all of the Vale! He’s the next Lord if Robert dies!
Littlefinger: WHEN Robert dies, you mean. I know how you care for him so, but he is so small… so fragile. You know it will happen, sooner or later. Probably sooner.
Alayne: But why would the heir to the Vale be willing to marry some bastard girl of Littlefinger?
Littlefinger: Why? Because now I have power. But things will not stay that way. Not forever. Jon Arryn’s bannermen will never love or trust me in the long run. Nor will they love that sickly, shaking boy. But who could they love? They could love Harry, who is nicknamed “Young Falcon.” And they could love his wife too. Not his wife, my bastard daughter. His wife with long, auburn hair… the one that walks out at the wedding wearing a grey cloak with a wolf on it.
Alayne: Well okay, that sounds cool. Just promise me that I don’t have to marry fucking Ramsay Bolton though.
Littlefinger: WHAT?! That sick, murderous weirdo? I would never. That would totally go completely against everything that my character inherently stands for. I’m obsessed with you, love you myself, and would never put you in danger’s way. You represent a sick fetish that I have to be with your mother.
Alayne: Good. Good. I’m glad you understand that. Because it seems like not everyone understands that. There are other people who might have you marry me to Ramsay, which would be completely illogical, go totally against your character, and would indicate poor writing skills by a desperate group of people who are in over their heads and need to more closely stay to the books.
Littlefinger: Just so that we’re on the same page… you’re talking about David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, correct?
Alayne: Yes.
Littlefinger: Good.
Arianne Matrell: Yes, I agree also! I should be in the TV show.
Alyane: No, you're in the wrong chapter, Arianne. We've moved on to the Sansa-Ramsay wedding thing.
Arianne: Oh right. That was dumb too.
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